


By the Grace of Your Training I Will Not Be Seduced

by Aiffe



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Fisting, Dubious Consent, F/M, First Time, Force Use, Hate Sex, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Porn With Worldbuilding, Power Struggle, Role Reversal, Small Penis, Topping from the Bottom, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-02 15:58:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6572563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aiffe/pseuds/Aiffe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An alternate version of the interrogation scene. Kylo Ren is in heat. Rey has some surprises for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	By the Grace of Your Training I Will Not Be Seduced

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [a reylo fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5457191) by [treezie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/treezie/pseuds/treezie). 



Kylo Ren went through the breathing exercises again. His hair was plastered to his face with sweat. The throbbing at his groin, the heat at his entrance, all of it was tearing his focus away, demanding attention, demanding—

He breathed. Acknowledged that he felt this way, didn’t fight it. He looked for a part of his body that was not overwhelmed. Wiggled his toes inside his boots. Tried to feel both things at once, the effects of the heat and the wholeness of his self, which contained parts of him not enslaved to the heat.

It wasn’t easy, with so many Stormtroopers about. Though most of them were betas, they’d been hormonally treated to resemble alphas, in smell and temperament if not anatomy. Their aggression was useful to the Order. But no omega had been designed to withstand the scents of so many alphas in close proximity, even if most of them were false. This was a cruel and unusual torture his biology had not been made to endure.

 _Breathe, Ren. You are not a slave to your biology. You are Darth Vader’s true heir._ He looked at the melted mask of his idol, his vision swimming. In the past, omegas meditating through heats had done headstands for hours, to drain the blood from their groins and back into their heads. He hoped not to resort to anything so undignified, but at this rate he might have to.

 _Most_ of the Stormtroopers were false alphas, but a few were the real thing. He couldn’t actually tell which was which, but he had a feeling Captain Phasma might be one. If she was only a beta, she’d have no phallus, but as a true alpha, when aroused her clit would extend, her knot would swell—his entrance clenched, and his dick throbbed harder. He could have her. She could give him some relief. It would be the best possible way to give in to this.

_Breathe. Breathe._

He didn’t actually know, of course. He tried to let the fantasy go—odds were she was a beta anyway. His mind and heart preferred women, but when the heats came, his body wanted nothing but to be filled, and most of the people who could penetrate him would be men. It was a very confusing time for him. It made sense to want a female alpha, to preserve his sense of self under these conditions. It didn’t mean he would give in to being fucked. It didn’t mean he would lose control.

Ren clenched his lightsaber, running his finger over the button without pressing it. He wanted to kill something, destroy something. Anything to distract him from this. He knew, too well, that control was the weakest point in his training. He had so little of it. Snoke had promised him the heats would help him with that. It was the greatest exercise in control anyone could ask for.

He wanted to trust that Snoke had been right. Omegas were naturally quite rare, and rarer still was one who wasn’t Force-sensitive. It was the receptive energy, Snoke told him, that made one open to the Force. The strangeness of being a man who could get pregnant did not make him a freak, Snoke had said, but blessed. He had the power to create life. And the power to take it away.

No one else had been able to understand it. His beta parents; his beta uncle. Of course, betas could be talented with the Force too. They’d encouraged him to take the treatment that would make him, at least hormonally, the same as a beta, and end his heats. They’d acted like they were worried about him, like they thought he was suffering.

_Isn’t this suffering, though? Isn’t it? Breathe, Ren._

But Darth Vader had been like him. Vader, an omega. Vader had sweated and suffered through this same torment, and it had made him stronger. Kylo Ren embraced this difference as something that could make him superior to the likes of Luke Skywalker. The one who’d failed to guide him when the heats started. The one who couldn’t understand. Only he could walk this path.

Ren splashed cold water on his face from a basin. “Show me, Grandfather,” he said, his voice hoarse and unbalanced. “Show me how you conquered this, and I will be worthy of you. I will show them the true power of the Dark Side…and of our kind.”

He put his own mask on, the cold metal a relief against his flushed skin, and a wall against the world.

-

Kylo Ren stormed through the halls on his way to interrogate the prisoner. He was aware of the cloud of pheromones he must be exuding now, and saw a few Stormtroopers stumble as he passed. Of course, he had nothing to fear from them. His authority and power made him untouchable. He had much more to fear from himself, should he stop _wanting_ to be untouchable.

His mask provided some slight protection from their scents. Pheromones were difficult to filter, but it dimmed it to a dull awareness rather than drowning in it. He reflected that historically, omegas had time off to meditate and develop spiritually during their heats, but he couldn’t afford that. By the time he was through this, the Resistance would have everything they needed to find Luke Skywalker. Time was of the essence.

The fact that he would have to face his father like this burdened him even more. Repulsive as his mind found it, he didn’t trust his body not to react to his father’s male beta scent. Ren ground his teeth, clenching his rage within him as though it were a hot brand. Rage was the only thing he had strong enough to tear through his heat-hazed thoughts. Other emotions might give him a more powerful control, as rage was volatile and unreliable, but right now it was the best tool he had. He let it surge up, a quick-burning blaze that ran through him and left everything in its wake purified to ash. He’d kill his father before he’d let his heat humiliate him in front of him.

He entered the interrogation room. The prisoner was held in restraints, unconscious. Ren knelt on the ground, not caring how it would look to the prisoner. His body was more shaky and feverish than he’d been prepared to deal with, and he couldn’t let his rage loose here. He’d had prisoners bait him into losing control and killing them in the past, and been reprimanded by Snoke for that. If the prisoner died, so would the map in her head. And once he handed control of himself to the rage, he couldn’t be sure what would happen. He needed much finer control for this.

_I can do it. By the grace of your training, I…._

He reached out with the Force and brought the prisoner to consciousness. She gasped, felt the restraints, and took in her surroundings, not quite panicking.

“Where am I?” she asked.

“You are my guest,” Ren said, still kneeling on the ground. Would she see it as weakness? That was fine. Underestimating him would work to his advantage.

“Where are the others?”

“You mean the murderers, traitors, and thieves you call your friends?” Ren asked in response. His mask hid how breathless he knew his voice had gotten. Good. “You’ll be relieved to hear I have no idea,” he told her. The best way to get information was not with intimidation, but through rapport, he told himself. It was in his training. He certainly held no…tenderness for this prisoner.

Unwanted, the memories of carrying her unconscious body against his own heat-dazed one came to mind. He’d held control then. He could hold it now.

“You still want to kill me,” he said.

“That happens when you’re being hunted by a creature in a mask,” the prisoner said, a defiant tilt to her chin. Her whole body was tense, resisting. He thought that she was beautiful—remembered the weight of her gone soft— _Focus, Ren._

Kylo Ren took one last breath of the filtered air to steel himself, and removed the mask, standing up slowly. _I have to do this. I have to get this information. I am strong enough._

The prisoner’s reaction was both what he wanted and somehow degrading to him. Her defenses slipped, as he’d intended them to. She was surprised by this—the show of vulnerability from the impenetrable Kylo Ren. But her next words were, “What’s…wrong with you?”

He ignored this, stepping closer to her. Her scent was unmistakably beta. That should be safe enough for him. While he liked beta women normally, his heats mainly craved beta men and alphas of any type. He thought that the part of him that found her attractive, therefore, must be his true self, rather than his hormones. If he’d gotten hormonal treatment, he thought bitterly, he might even have a relationship of some sort with a beta woman. This was what he was giving up. This was the price of power.

He ignored her question, and asked one of his own. “Tell me about the droid.”

The prisoner frowned at him. “Are you…sick?”

Even without using the Force to scan her mind, he knew how she must see him. Sweaty, exhausted, at the end of his rope both physically and mentally. The heat had already been wearing him down for days. Couldn’t she smell it? Didn’t she know exactly what was ‘wrong’ with him? _It is not a curse_ , he reminded himself. _It was a blessing for Vader, and so it is for me, his heir._

“Tell me about the droid,” he said again—more firmly, more menacing.

Their rapport slipped. She went stony-eyed, resisting him. “He’s a BB unit with a selenium drive and a thermal hyperscan vindicator.”

“I’m not interested in its technical specifications,” he snarled, his breath coming hard. No. Rage would not do here. He bit it back. “You know what I want.”

She looked at him, somewhere between pity and fascination. “No. Tell me…what do you want?”

He felt somehow caught out by that. She knew perfectly well what he wanted, didn’t she? From the BB unit, as well as from her. He tried to force himself to stop staring at her lips. They were so perfectly-shaped, he wanted to kiss them. He wanted….

“The map,” he panted. He rested his hand on her shoulder, as much to support himself as just to touch her. She stiffened. It frightened her, being touched by him while restrained like this. He could understand why. It frightened him too, though maybe that was something she wouldn’t understand as well.

“What map?” the prisoner said, with perfectly vacuous, perfectly feigned ignorance.

“I know you’ve seen it,” Ren said dismissively. He tried to take his hand off her, realizing that frightening her in this way was counterproductive, but his body disobeyed him, insisting it needed the support to remain standing. Couldn’t he at least—yes, he supported himself against the frame of her restraints with his other hand, and lifted his hand off her. The loss of even indirect contact through his glove felt almost painful to him. “The section of navigation chart he’s carrying,” Ren added. “You convinced the droid to show it to you, even though you’re just a scavenger.”

His eyes fluttered, and he leaned so close she had to pull her head away from him. Why did he love her scent so much? She was only a beta. Had he gotten this desperate? Snoke would be so disappointed in him. He had to end this quickly. His hand hovered over her again, this time tracing the outline of her face without quite touching it, not sure he could bear to touch her again. “You know I can take whatever I want,” he breathed. He knew they were both aware of the threat implied there, and though he hadn’t quite intended to say it that way, once he had he knew that he meant it. The prisoner shivered just under him, just out of contact.

He invaded her mind with the Force. The first, most immediate thing that confronted him was that she was nearly as aroused as he was. This was a great surprise to him. Beta women weren’t supposed to have any response to omega pheromones. Was she just a degenerate who liked to be restrained and threatened? No—she had no liking at all for this situation, in fact she was terrified. She didn’t know why her body was responding like this. She thought he’d done something to her. He could feel it, though, the heaviness pooling in her till it was almost painful, the dampness soaking through her clothes. She knew that he knew now, and it scared her even more. She didn’t want this.

“Don’t be afraid,” he whispered. “I feel it too.” Well, perhaps that wouldn’t assuage her fears any. _Just show me the map and we can be done_ , he said into her mind, but no map was forthcoming. He felt a great deal of determination and pride—she was every bit of proud as he was, this strange scavenger girl. She thought, with some kind of childish idealization, that she was part of the Resistance now, and that if you were in the Resistance you held up under torture and interrogation. His lip curled in a sneer. Poe Dameron hadn’t; more Resistance members than he could remember hadn’t. She only was proud because she’d never learned to be anything else.

Ren tried to slow and relax his breathing, accepting that he’d be on a long, slow tour through her mind. He could take his time. “You are so lonely,” he said. “So afraid to leave.” He saw desert, desert, wind and sky. Her soul, rarified in that place like sun-bleached bones. He saw the hunger that gnawed at her daily, that consumed her like his heat was consuming him now. He saw another place, very different—ah, only a dream, a fantasy she played in her mind before sleeping. An ocean, a vast ocean, with an island in it. He saw her trying to cool her mind with the ocean, trying to slake a thirst too great for her, saw—

The girl, whom he knew intimately now as Rey, trembled under his probe, sweating almost as much as he did. She knew this feeling. She didn’t know why she felt it now, but she knew it. She’d endured heats. He saw her overwhelmed by them in her tiny AT-AT in the desert, not understanding what was happening to her yet, why she was different. She’d learned quickly, that this was a defect— _no, not a defect!_ Ren thought angrily, but went on with her thoughts—that some people were born with. That it would draw unwanted attention to her, but it could be treated with medication. She’d given up three days’ food for the pills. Between that and the time she’d lost to her heat, she’d been so hungry she’d eaten shoe leather. But she was so much more afraid of reeking like that in that place, full of people she didn’t want touching her. She hadn’t had Ren’s authority, his safety. She’d needed to do this to survive.

Ren understood what was happening to her, then. She only took the pills irregularly—she couldn’t afford to stay on them constantly, and she’d gotten it down to an art, switching to beta hormones right before a heat, recording the days of her cycle with scientific care. And his strong omega pheromones had triggered a false heat in her. He’d heard of that happening, in the rare instances when two omegas met. This explained why the Force was so strong with her, and why she’d been so strangely numb to it despite that. The beta hormones had closed off her connection with her true self. He hadn’t meant to do this to her—he tried to communicate that inside her mind—but now that it was done, he felt a strange kinship with her. To find another, after all this time, who truly felt what he felt….

But suddenly, things were reversed. Rey was in _his_ mind. In a moment of terror, Ren realized he couldn’t stop her; he couldn’t force her out. Pushing her into her natural omega state, he saw, had made her more powerful. She was still untrained, directionless. She didn’t know how to navigate, how to find his secrets. But she still saw plenty.

“You’re afraid…” she said. “Afraid you’ll lose control. Because you can’t handle this…not like Vader could!”

Ren was desperate—to silence her, to shock her, to—and so he gave in to an earlier temptation, shutting off all thought so there would be nothing for her to read, and kissed her perfect, soft lips.

When he pulled away, he didn’t think she was in his mind anymore, so perhaps it had been effective. He wasn’t in her mind either, though. Her face was flushed, and he could feel body heat radiating off her. It had been underhanded, admittedly. He’d hoped to frighten her with that assault. But she didn’t look frightened, and he realized, horribly, that that kiss had been the mistake that had lost him the battle. And, by the fierce, shining look burning in her eyes, she knew it too.

“Release me from these restraints,” Rey said evenly. Kylo Ren, almost hypnotized, looked at her hands held by those metal shackles, and thought hazily that she couldn’t touch him if she was like that, and he needed her to touch him.

“Okay,” he said hoarsely, and pressed the button to release her.

Rey massaged her wrists shakily. “Good,” she said, then, keeping her voice steeled, “Now. Put me back the way I was.”

“I can’t do that,” Ren said softly.

“Put me back. The way I was,” Rey repeated, using the Force like a blunt weapon in her words.

Kylo Ren shook his head, and met her eyes. He saw the fear there, bright and sharp, though her pupils were wide with arousal, much as he knew his were. “I didn’t make you this way. It’s how you’re supposed to be, an omega. It’s not a curse, Rey.” He reached for her face, to stroke it. “I could teach you—”

Rey’s boot slammed into his groin the moment his gloved fingers touched her face. Ren groaned, stumbling back from her. It didn’t hurt him in the same way as it would if he’d been a beta or an alpha, something she probably didn’t know, as he doubted she’d ever examined an omega man up close, but that entire area was tender now, and did not appreciate being kicked.

Before he could even think, Ren had activated his lightsaber. He held it menacingly over her, seeing her lit by its searing red light.

“You won’t kill me,” Rey said. Her lips were still flushed from their kiss, a full red that looked almost like lipstick.

She had him, of course. Ren shook his head. “I can still hurt you.”

Rey stepped down off the restraints, and touched his cheek. The feeling of someone else’s skin on his skin was so satisfying he had to choke back a moan. She was close enough for him to slice her in half, if he wanted to. He could see it in his mind—a clean cut, instantly cauterized, her eyes still wide in shock. _See_ that _in my thoughts_ , he dared her. But her hand trailed down his arm, and covered his hand on the lightsaber. She moved his fingers gently and deactivated it, and he let her.

She twisted the handle of the lightsaber out of his now-limp grip, and he allowed this too. “You’re not ready for it,” he said softly. “That is not a beginner’s saber.”

“Shut up,” Rey said. “Get on the restraints.”

Ren continued to stand exactly where he was, leaning slightly towards her like a wobbly tower that might collapse at any moment. “No.”

Rey stiffened, and spoke more firmly. “Get on the restraints.”

“That isn’t going to work,” Ren said. “You _definitely_ aren’t ready to pull such a trick on someone like me.”

“It worked before.”

“No. It didn’t.”

“Then why did you do everything I wanted?”

Ren swallowed hard with a dry mouth. He didn’t have an answer.

Rey took a few steps away from him, still holding his lightsaber. She leaned against the wall for support, trailing along it towards the exit. Ren wondered if he really meant to let her go, just like that. How would he explain it to Snoke—that he’d not only failed and let the prisoner escape, but given her his damned lightsaber as a present? If he was going to be that useless, he might as well just become a false beta after all. But, looking at her, he realized she wouldn’t get far.

“It isn’t safe out there,” he said. “With you like that.”

Rey shot him a hateful look. “And it’s safe for me in here?”

“You seem to think you have me in hand,” he said, a slight smirk creeping onto his face.

The false heat she was in seemed to be wasting no time. He could actually smell her own omega pheromones now, and to his dismay or delight—he wasn’t sure which—they seemed to have almost as powerful an effect on him as his had on her. He’d never experienced this before, and he had met other omegas, though not while either was in heat. Perhaps there was just something special about _her_. She seemed very special to him at the moment, and that was about as far as he was able to think about it.

She was nearly as sweaty as him, hair plastered to her face with it. She drew breath faster, more urgently. Had he been sober and not in heat, perhaps this wouldn’t have been such a vision of beauty to him. He saw one of her hands run along her tightly-toned body, almost as if she hadn’t intended to let it. Finally, with a desperate lick of her lips, she leaned back against the wall and turned the lightsaber on. She was clearly unprepared for the unstable forces of the cracked crystal, but she wasn’t trying to swing it, only hold it. Her other hand was poised at her waistband, with some of the sheer fabric she wore draped over her already rucked up over it, and a single tantalizing inch of skin visible at her belly.

“Turn the other way,” she said.

“No.”

Rey looked about to break down from frustration. “Don’t come closer, then. I _will_ kill you. You know I’m not lying.” Her hand slid down into her pants. Ren’s knees were weak, though he couldn’t see what she was doing through the cloth. His erection throbbed, still smarting from her kick.

“That won’t help you,” he rasped.

“And what will? _You_?”

“I might be the only other person who understands how you feel,” Ren said. “Don’t be so quick to dismiss me.”

She ran her eyes over him again, her hand still working under her pants. “How do you bear it?”

“With training,” he said. “It isn’t easy. I…was not at my best today,” he admitted begrudgingly. “I wasn’t prepared for this.”

“Why don’t you just take the treatment?” Rey said. “I don’t understand. You can afford it!”

“Because there is weakness in denying your true nature,” Kylo Ren said.

Rey withdrew her hand, slicked with her fluids, and turned off the lightsaber. She looked about to either fight him or cry, so when she walked towards him, he assumed she must have picked the latter. But she reached him she grabbed his collar, with that hand that still smelled so strongly of _her_ , and just as he was finally losing his balance after all he found himself being pulled into a kiss so ravenous he was afraid she’d decided to fight him after all.

For the next few minutes all he could do was surrender to this. As he stumbled she pushed him to his knees and continued to kiss him, his neck craned back to give her full access to his mouth. He though he could never have enough of tasting her, even when the taste was marred by his own blood, as her teeth roughly scraped the inside of his bottom lip.

Rey shoved him away then, if only by a few inches, and looked at him—she was beautifully flushed, her mouth plump from kissing, her eyes so dark and feral they barely looked human, but her expression was twisted with anger. “You’re so weak,” she said, short of breath. “All the heat does is make you weaker.”

Kylo Ren tried to get up, his hand already swinging to strike her, but Rey’s reflexes were faster, honed for survival on that forsaken rock she called home. She blocked his strike and twisted his arm as she did so, bringing him down to his knees again even more humiliatingly than the last time. Before he could recover, she pressed the open end of his own lightsaber to his neck, her finger on the button. For the first time, Ren’s heart pounded in genuine fear—not just of failure before Snoke, but that she might actually kill him. If her sweaty, trembling finger even _slipped_ he would be dead instantly. He put a hand up shakily to plead with her.

“Why shouldn’t I kill you…” Rey asked, though her voice wavered. “You’ll never stop hunting me otherwise, will you? The moment I walk out that door, you’ll have your goons after me.” Ren didn’t have an answer to that, and just held still, wide-eyed, waiting for his fate to be decided. He could try to choke her with the Force again, but he couldn’t guarantee she’d be unconscious before her finger could twitch. Between the heat and his fear, his breath came in short, fast gulps.

But Rey’s lip wobbled and she lowered the saber handle. Tentatively, he reached out into the Force—not to tear into her mind as before, but to sense the aura of emotions she let off naturally. He felt disgust, and paradoxically, fascination. Curiosity, terror; desperate, ravenous lust. Iron determination muddled with uncertainty. He could knock her out now. He knew he must. But instead he just stayed there, on his knees, still trembling. Rey was right. He was weak.

“Take off your clothes,” Rey commanded.

“No,” Ren said.

With an angry curl of her lip, Rey started unfastening his cloak, roughly continuing on through his layers of diaphanous black cloth. Ren was letting her do it, his face blank with shock. So she was giving in after all.

“Is this how you handled your heats on Jakku?” Ren taunted.

“Don’t get excited,” Rey said. She pulled his pants down with a harsh tug.

“Bit late for that,” Ren said dryly, seeing as there was no point in denying his excitement at this point.

Rey’s eyes scanned over him, and in spite of her unimpressed expression, she gave a little involuntary lick at her lips. “If you hadn’t said anything, I might have missed it,” she said, trying a bit too hard to sound as aloof as she clearly wanted to be.

“It’s more than you have,” Ren said scornfully. Omega males weren’t known for their size, but Ren had a quite respectable four inches, and all of it hard enough to ache. He didn’t have the knot her heat would be craving, but all the same, if she felt anything close to the need to be filled he felt right now….

Rey had divested him of his boots, and through the heat-haze, Ren realized she wasn’t stripping him to fuck him after all. She didn’t want him, she wanted…the clothes. Of course. To allow her to leave the base safely. Meanwhile, he’d be left naked on the floor in a pool of his own pathetic omega slick. Rage flooded his mind, the only thing that ever could reliably cut through the heat. For one searing moment, he had no restraint at all, and intended to use the Force to simply tear her apart. Rey stiffened in alarm, sensing his intent before he could twist the Force to his will. Her reflexes were so fast he thought he might be cut down by his own lightsaber.

Instead, Rey’s hand had wrapped around his cock.

Ren gasped, incoherent, his thoughts suddenly too simple for words or even pictures, just the feeling of stars exploding, black holes colliding, something immense and immeasurable. He might have said something like, “No, please,” but he wasn’t even sure if he was asking her to stop or continue. Her warm hand pumped his length, her grip too tight, painful, too much. “Rey,” he breathed, barely voiced.

Her face was inches from his, her gaze intense, staring right into him, through him. Her grip on his cock softened just enough, now caressing him more than simply pumping him, exploring his shape with genuine interest. Her fingers ran over the smooth mound of his empty scrotum. “That explains it,” she said. “Never met a man who didn’t go down at a kick to the balls.”

“Now you have,” Ren choked out. Not the most clever thing he could have said—he was several stages past clever, and counted himself lucky to be using language at all.

Her fingers slipped further between his legs, exploring the source of the wetness running down his thighs. He felt a fingertip lightly tap his damp entrance, then pull back as if alarmed or repulsed. Ren couldn’t quite contain a groan.

“Is that how omega men are,” Rey wondered aloud.

“It isn’t dirty,” Ren said defensively, a tinge of hurt in his voice. “There’s nothing wrong with how I am.”

“Did someone tell you that there was?” Rey asked.

“Like you haven’t heard the same,” he snarled.

Rey’s fingers touched his entrance again, less timidly. Three fingers sunk into him without resistance, and Ren moaned, melting against her.

“Who’d…who’d ever want to get rid of this,” Rey said, barely able to keep up her own sarcasm.

“I could show you the power in it,” Ren said, between panting breaths. “I could teach you everything. Please, let me.” He kissed her, this time nothing but tender, and Rey followed his lead, seemingly tender against her will, entrained.

Her fingers slipped out of him, and Rey rubbed his cock again, this time slick with his own fluids. She groaned against his lips, her hand greedily exploring his cock, enjoying the feel of it in her hand, the desperate thrust of his hips into her palm. He felt that enjoyment, through her proximity, through her contact, as he was very sure she felt his. Her thighs wrapped around his leg, clenching him, and he could feel wetness through her clothes where she pressed into him.

“You want me,” he rasped. “Give in to it. Think of what we could be together.”

Rey whimpered against him, incoherent with need. He caressed her head, pulling the tie out of one of her buns to run his fingers through her hair. She was perfect. Just like this. For a moment he imagined them together even after this, even past their heat, two powerful Force-users, side by side. He wouldn’t be alone. He let that thought drift to her through their connection, knowing it would mean something to her.

 _We won’t be alone anymore. We’ll have each other._ He could feel an ache in her, deeper than her lust. She looked at him hungrily, and started pulling off her loose clothes.

“Yes,” Ren said. “Yes.”

“Shut up,” Rey snapped. “You didn’t win anything. I just, I need you right now.”

Ren gave no argument, letting Rey straddle him. Her warm heat sank onto his cock, and Ren bit his lip, the pleasure almost bordering on pain. A shiver went through Rey’s whole body, taking him in. Her shirt hung open, impatiently unfastened but left on in her hurry, and her small, pert breasts parted the flow of white cloth, her nipples hard, and an exquisite flush spreading over the pale swath of skin between her tanlines.

He reached out to stroke her as she moved on him, but Rey caught his hand, twisting the wrist in a well-practiced grip. “Rey,” he said hoarsely, meaning to say something about how she was only denying herself, that he could give her more pleasure if she would only let him—but she started riding him harder then, more furiously, and he couldn’t choke out much more than a moan.

He writhed under her, letting her use him as roughly as she liked, until she clenched hard around him, stilling her rhythm and making a soft keening sound as if this was about all she could bear. Ren used the moment to try to catch his breath, though he’d found no release of his own, and the ache in him was worse than ever now.

Rey pulled off him with a moan, seemingly disappointed at how easily he slipped out of her. She collapsed panting beside him.

“Your first time?” Ren asked.

“Can’t you just read my mind?” Rey shot back bitterly.

“I could tell. You’re probably lucky I wasn’t an alpha, as tight as you are.”

Rey struck out at him, landing a weak and shaky punch on his stomach. “Shut up.”

“Or maybe the thought of being knotted arouses you?”

She punched him again, on the chest. “Shut _up_.” She frowned. “Why…why isn’t it better? I gave it what it wanted….”

“No, you didn’t. You didn’t get knotted.”

“It wasn’t supposed to go like this,” Rey said miserably. “And you can’t even give me relief.”

“We haven’t tried everything,” Ren said. “I don’t suggest getting knotted, unless you want to have a baby. But I think we could make each other very happy.”

Rey aimed another punch, this one at his face, but Ren caught it with the Force, stilling its forward momentum. He cradled it gently with one hand, and kissed her white knuckles.

Rey just growled, deep and primal in her throat, almost like an alpha’s growl. She pulled her fist back, and considered it, holding it as if his kiss had gotten something dirty on it, as though his kisses hadn’t been all over her face and neck already. She unwound the cloth wrappings from that arm. “Turn over.”

“What are you—” Ren began, but not waiting for him to finish his question, Rey pushed him over, rolling him onto his stomach. His still-hard cock was pressed between the floor and his belly, and he tried not to hump the ground like a heatsick idiot.

Rey’s hand trailed down his bare back, over the curve of his ass. He tried to look back at her, only to have her other hand roughly grab his sweaty curls and push his face back into the ground.

Her fingers slipped between his cheeks, and he felt them probe the rim of his entrance. For a moment he was terribly self-aware, seeing himself letting the _prisoner_ do this to him—what would the officers think? What would _Snoke_ think? But in that same instant he decided he didn’t care, arching his back to lift his ass in invitation. She would be on his side soon anyway, and—

She was probing inside him, her fingers curling slightly to explore his depths. Ren squirmed, reaching a hand under himself to touch his cock, then flinching back, finding it sore from her earlier hard use. “Rey…” he gasped. “More…please….”

Rey pushed deeper, seemingly astonished at how easily her whole hand fit inside him, though it stretched him deliciously. With her free hand, she pulled his asscheeks further apart, spreading him. His omega body seemed convinced it was getting exactly what it needed, regardless of pheromones. She began to thrust into his slick passage, the firm fullness of her arm exactly the right thickness.

He was making a fool of himself, drooling onto his own cheek and gasping in mindless pleasure, but he was long past caring. He could feel his peak approaching, and all that mattered was that she continue, that she stay—

He came hard, groaning like a dying thing and tightening around her arm. He felt her hand curl into a fist, which rubbed inside him exactly right, as a knot should. _How had she known to do that?_ he wondered fuzzily, realizing that it must be because she knew the things she herself craved.

Rey couldn’t pull out right away, or knew not to try. He’d contracted around her, holding her in. He looked up at her now, feeling almost compelled to, and gazed into her eyes. He realized, with a surge of fear, that this was the bonding stage of mating. It shouldn’t be possible with two omegas, or maybe no one had ever told him it could happen, but his body seemed convinced, and he felt hazily affectionate, studying her face as if it was brand new to him. _It’s only hormones_ , he told himself, _it can’t control you. And surely…surely she feels it the same?_ She had come on him earlier. Perhaps that explained her sudden generosity towards him?

She stayed with him then, meeting his gaze, but with an icy sternness that didn’t melt as the minutes wore on. A wave of sleepiness came over him, and his limbs felt turned to jelly. His thoughts were moving slowly, floating as if aloft on warm air, soft like clouds. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt safe and loved like this. Before Starkiller Base. Before Snoke.

Rey’s hand slipped out of him. She wiped it off on the cloth she’d had wrapped around her arm before, and tossed the cloth away. Moving stiffly and seemingly with great effort of control, she pulled her own clothes back on, and began picking up his discarded garments and putting them on over her own. Layer by layer, she robed herself in his flowing black, though her hands shook the whole time.

“Rey,” he croaked.

She came at last to his helmet, and quickly rearranged her hair, pulling it all back in one loose bun at the nape of her neck so it would fit smoothly. She slid it on, becoming his spitting image, if a few inches shorter. Given the way the others at the base feared him, no one might get close enough to notice that.

“At least don’t leave me like this for them to find!” Ren said, having nothing left but this last, pathetic plea. He couldn’t believe he’d seen her plan and let it happen anyway—because he was desperate, because he needed her, because he couldn’t say no to her touch.

Rey turned fractionally back towards him, his own mask impassively sweeping over his nakedness. She turned again, disdainfully, and walked away.

“Rey!” Ren called after her. “ _Rey_!” She didn’t slow down. “Take me with you, then!” he shouted, his voice cracking on the words—they’d come out before he’d even realized he was going to say them, or what they would mean for him if she accepted.

But Rey went on, evenly forcing one foot after another, her—his—cloak billowing at her heels. “Don’t go,” he rasped brokenly.

She was already gone.

**Author's Note:**

> Also rebloggable on [my tumblr](http://forbitten-fruit.tumblr.com/post/142914630374/fic-by-the-grace-of-your-training-i-will-not-be).


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